Semi-weekly south Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1883-1889, 1887-07-19
PART H.-CHAPTER II.

and the stars were paling. There wa
light enough TO see the length OF tn
deck, where the view was not obstruct
ed, and as yet there was no sign o
outbreak. The Captain walked for
ward with Crawford, saw that tn
watch were awake, and that the look
out was at his post, and stopped mo
ment to observe the men. A silence
fell upon them as they saw him.
"Where's that big mulatto?" he
abruptly asked. "Can any of you tel
meP"
There were several head-shakes, ant
two or three negatives IN Spanish.
"NIay be jump overheard" one o
the negroes growled.
Hiding, likely" one of the vagranti
ventured.
"Now mark me, men!" the Captain
said. "You know what manner OF
man / am: I'm not to be fooled with.
Some of you know where that fellow is,
We shall be at Nassau before dark,
and then that man will go ashore in
irons. He'll go if it takes the whole
British garrison to bring him out. Yor
hear meP just tell him that, and tha
he'd better deliver himself up peaca
bly,"
The two walked aft again.
Il don't think I'd have told them
nj -. e,;I C,a ,rfo,.1
"Why notP"
at may make them more desper'
ate"
"Pshaw! Such fellows as those ne
groes are always desperate. What
they need is to feel the strong hand on
them. They hadn't heard from me for
several hours, and thought it time tq
show myself to them again."
He stopped and leaned against the
long-boat. His companion was silent.
"Another day of this suspense and
vigilance, and we'll make port again
and rid ourselves of these pests"
II hope so. sir.
The Captain said nothing for mo-
ment, and then suddenly askcd
"Mr. Crawford, are you supersti-
tious?"
81 don't know that am" He ad-
ded, with laugh; II suppose I'm moi
enough of a sailor for that"
you say that in jest; but there's
truth in it. Now look at me. You sec
what l am; you know me pretty well.
You wouldn't take me for man likely
to give way to presentiments2"
Certainly not"
"And yet, tell you that in the hours
of this night that has just ended the
belief has been forced upon me that
shall not see another sunset. p"
You'll see many hundreds of them,
sir. don't wonder you are disturbed
in mind by what has happened on this
vessel in less than twenty-four hours
but I'm confident the worst is over"
"You think I'm nervous and Eighty,
as most men would be in my place.
You are wrong. If you should feel
my pulse you would find it as steady
and strong rs the beat of the pendu.
lum. | am not governed by any weak
fear; it is simply a powerful presents
ment of speedy death that has come
to me-
His words were so solemn that Craw-
ford could at first make no reply.
"SGll," he at last ventured, "yor
must admit that there is no peril thai
threntens you that does not equally
threaten me. ."
Not at all. My belief is just as firm
that you will escape these dangers and
live long TO tell about them. Justiook
back at what has happened TO you in
the past month! Fate has been won.
derfully kind to you, and will continue
to be, verify believe. You arc
marked for life, not death. No man
can do the things that you have done,
without having what should call q
firm grip on existence. Don't ask me
how all this seems SO clear to me; fee
it-but l can no more explain it than
can tell what made this wind rise, and
what keeps it blowing
There was absolutely nothing that
Henry Crawford could say. The Cap.
tain's manner warned him that what
had been said was but the prelude to
something of great Importance that was
to follow.
"It is not q mere idle within that
leads me to tell you this" Captain Willis
went on. "If l supposed that We
were all to be involved in common
disaster, and that none of us should
ever sail into Boston harbor, you
would have heard nothing Of this from
me. 1t is because | thoroughly be-
heve that your lucky star still attends
you, that / now speak TO you as one
man might speak from a dying bed IL
another"
The rough man was softencd by his
own words. His voice faltered little;
he even grasped Crawford's hand.
Nothing has been said between us
about my daughter since you surprised
me with her picture" he continued.
" It's not necessary to say that ] up
prove her choice. She's sweet, good
girl, my lad-that you know She
hasn't seen as much of her father as a
child has a right TO; but I've always
loved her dearly. Didn't | name this
ship after her, when she was little
slip of thingP You'll do just as
you said, / am sure; you'll go back,
quit ndventuring, take up the old,
steady ways Of the world, which, after
all, are the best ways, marry Helen,
and settle down. You must DO kind TO
her mother, too; she's good woman, "
There was just dash Of petulance in
the young mans voice as he repliedi
"All this is very pleasant for mo TO
hear. Captain Willis, and I'm proud of
your confidence in me. You'll pardon